Close Your Eyes
by SunriseSerenity
Summary: A take on what happened after the end of 9:03  spoilers for that ep. .  Lucas and Maya get reacquainted without the aid of a kitchen table.  Hopefully there's some emotional depth here - please be kind, my first fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**

Maya does not seem particularly popular in Spooks/MI-5 fandom, but I found the scene at the end of 9:03 very compelling. This story begins using dialogue from the show, but develops into a version of what happened next, in between episodes. I hope this is in keeping with the guidelines. Of course, I have no rights at all over these characters or the show.

NB. Maya knows Lucas as John. I have used the name rarely as it all gets confusing.

* * *

She came.

He is thrilled but knows he needs to play it cool as he opens the door. She stands there with a slate grey coat open over a simple black dress; determined, hands on the doorframe:

"You lie to me, and I swear, you will never see me again."

"OK" he looks serious, "Come in."

She walks through and he shuts the door. The flat is simple but stylish. Empty. She looks around taking it in while he hovers near the doorway, clasping his hands together; uncertain what is coming next. He half leans against the wall for support, grey blue shirt open at the neck. She turns to face him, arms folded.

"Why did you let me believe you were dead?" she asks, the hurt coming through.

"Alright" he says gently, straightening to tell some truth, hand half in the pocket of his dark blue jeans. "I went to prison for eight years. Is that good enough?"

"Prison," she responds, considering. She turns away, "why? Did you kill someone?"

"No," he says simply. It was true - that wasn't why he went to prison.

"Did you hurt someone then?" she looks around, needing to see his response.

"No," he says again, half shaking his head and sounding weary. She looks away again, doubting she will ever get to the truth.

"I suppose you were innocent" she says, expecting a half-baked story.

"No," he says, more honestly, and she is compelled to turn back. His answer surprised her, but she has more questions.

"Why did you decide to turn up now?" Maybe this is the more crucial question. What does he want from her? He glances down, brings his hand to his face, strokes his stubble and sighs.

"A photograph," he begins, moving a little closer, "of you. All those years that I spent trying to forget… just fell away". He glances up, "I had to see you". It's a great answer, and she wants to believe him, but she needs to protect herself.

"Is that true?"

He pauses, seeing that he might be getting through to her. Almost imperceptibly he nods, and murmurs low: "Every word".

Still cautious and hugging her coat around her, Maya moves towards him, perhaps to further scrutinise his face. "I don't even know you any more" she states, though her heart is not in her words. They're standing a foot apart now, closer than he thought he'd ever get again, but not close enough.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yeah you do" he counters, looking intently at her. Asking her to see the man he was.

"No" she says, more sadly this time and half whispers, "I've forgotten".

"Close your eyes" he suggests. She looks at him, tempted but still afraid. "You'll remember". She glances away, breaking the eye contact which is getting too intense. But another way to do that would be to close her eyes. He shifts slightly, back into her eye-line and repeats, "Close your eyes" and though he says it very softly, it is not a suggestion, and she complies.

She is waiting and he gazes at her soft skin and full lips. Slowly he is drawn to her and grazes her nose as he gets so close, watching for some indication that she wants this as much as he does. She feels his breath and does not move away, but neither does she move towards him. He touches his lips to hers lightly, a tiny kiss, and waits, and she leans in slightly, not wanting to lose the contact. This is the encouragement he needs and he kisses her again, raising himself to his full height as she follows him, her lips parting with longing.

They kiss more deeply, breathing hungrily, and she raises her hands to his cheek and neck wanting more of him. His hands are at her waist, drawing her closer, and suddenly needing to help her out of her coat. Pulling it over her smooth arms, they embrace again. Even after fifteen years, there is a familiarity, something neither of them has forgotten despite years of trying. She shifts between snatches of memories and wanting to stay very much in the present with this intriguing man who commands her attention yet seems himself under her power. While she instinctively responds to his kisses and touch she remembers other aspects of their former relationship and without warning turns away, moving towards the door.


	3. Chapter 3

He is light-headed and leans against the kitchen counter, fully alive to the memories and dismayed that she is leaving. He collects himself enough to follow her, trying to summon the words to call her back yet puzzled that their reunion has left her so detached. As she reaches the door he sees her coat on the floor and is about to pick it up when he realises she has not left the flat. Instead she turned sharply at the front door and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

A memory of them together at university, laughing and falling into bed returns to his mind and he wonders if they could ever recapture that playful intimacy. The shadows of his life since that time distract him painfully, and he knows he could spiral into depths of self-examination if it weren't for the woman waiting for him upstairs. Focusing on the possibilities of the present he climbs the stairs with purpose, determined to show her some of the other things he has not forgotten.

She had appraised his bedroom, sparse as the rest of the flat yet the royal blue sheets were tidy and expensive. She sat down and took off her boots, feeling surprisingly composed. Her relationship with Michael had soured as his attentions felt more possessive, and there was something about returning to an old lover that felt less of a betrayal, more a restoration. She had waited for John to return for so long. When eventually she had moved on she had not realised how much of herself she had left behind. The man reawakening these feelings is entering the room and she sees something of her own mixed emotions reflected on his face.

Seeing her discarded boots he sits down beside her and removes his own shoes knowing she is watching his every move. His eyes pan slowly from her slender feet, taking in her legs and modest hemline and skimming the rest of her body until his eyes find hers and they resume their kiss. His hands find her neck and hair and he inhales the scent of her shampoo, filling his senses. She lifts his shirt and runs her hands over his back, finding the body of a man more defined than she had known back in their student days. Her curiosity aroused, she makes to remove his shirt and after a moment's hesitation he lifts his arms to assist her exploration.

His dark tattoos both shock and fascinate her, jolting them both to awareness of the time that has passed and the gaps in their knowledge of one another. She traces some of the patterns with her fingers and lips, wanting to ask but not wanting to pry. Somehow she knows the deeper scars have left no visible trace. The Latin just below the back of his neck means something to her: Dum spiro spero, While I breathe I hope. She wonders what hopes had kept him strong in prison, wherever that had been, and whether she could have inspired such feeling. She kisses the neat letters and feels him shiver and he turns to kiss her again, and begin some exploration of his own.


	4. Chapter 4

He moves to unzip her dress and reaches inside, smoothing over the curves of a slightly fuller figure than the medical student who had sometimes failed to eat properly. Lifting the dress over her head he feels the years have been more than kind, and her more sophisticated taste in lingerie is another change he could somehow learn to handle. She leans back on the pillows and enjoys his touch, warm and appreciative, until his fingers graze her hip just there, and again, and she nearly gasps. He notices her inhale and meets her eyes, smiling knowingly. She feels undone: what else does this man remember about her body? She aches to be touched even as she feels mildly irritated by his smug expression. She looks around the room for more clues to the person he has become but there are few personal items, little to express the years that have passed. And her distraction is not appreciated.

"Close your eyes" he whispers persuasively, and once again he has her full, focused attention. She looks at him and sees his gaze is full of intent. His hand wanders over her body until he finds that spot on her hip again and he circles around it, teasing her until she fulfils his request and closes her eyes. He has his mission: to bring her delightful body to the brink of ecstasy, recapturing all that they had and convincing them both that they could still access that purity of passion and contented sleep. While he remembers their heady romance, over the years he has rarely found such peaceful sleep as he remembers in her arms. Waking up content and rested was a far cry from more recent nights tormented by flashbacks and guilt. But neither of them is ready for sleep just yet.

He returns to give her his full attention, focusing all his energies and concentration on satisfying her. Sensitive and generous he moves gently at first, reading her expressions and remembering what she likes. Several times he detects her pulse racing and slows down, prolonging her enjoyment. By the time they find union he is overflowing with emotion. She has opened her eyes to see his tears and feels a deep soul connection, praying they can both be peace for the other. That something of this night can last.

He touches her deep inside.

And she remembers why.

She came.


End file.
